No Regrets
by CoolnRainy
Summary: Oneshot post 1x13 - Cal goes to comfort Gill, or something. This is primarily a friendship fic. Cliche, maybe, but give it a read - M rated.


**A/N:** Oneshot set at the end of episode 1x13 after Cal goes to the hospital. And after Gillian split up with Alec. Yeah, all right, I went there. But this was just something I got in my head, and it's something I felt would have been a believable kind of thing to have happened. Hope you enjoy it. Please note the M rating. For sex.

**Disclaimer:** Lie to Me characters, concepts and actual storylines do not belong to me in any way, shape or form.

x x x

**No Regrets:**

Gentle warm sunlight played across his eyelids, and he eased into consciousness. He felt deliciously warm. He shifted slightly and suddenly became aware that he was holding a warm body in his arms. He sucked in a sharp breath as his eyes snapped open.

_Shit._

He couldn't be sure how it had happened. Or, more accurately, how he had let it happen. But it nevertheless had, as was evident by the very naked Gillian Foster lying in his arms against his very naked body the day after she had separated from her husband.

_Shit, shit, shit._

Regret wasn't even close to what he knew she would be feeling when she woke up.

She was going to hate this. Hate herself. Possibly hate him.

Oh, God.

x x x

The previous night he had returned to the office after visiting the hospital, but Gillian had been gone already. He strode out again, but he couldn't get her vulnerable, almost scared expression out of his head. The day Zoe had left him, Gillian had sat up with him at home while he got drunk, and then she had tucked him under a blanket on the couch after he had passed out, and left some aspirin and water on the coffee table for when he woke up.

He climbed into his car, and stared at the steering wheel before coming to a decision. He took out his cell, and called her.

"Hello?" her quiet voice had said. He could tell she had been crying, and was pretty sure she wouldn't have answered if it hadn't been his name flashing on her screen.

"Where are you, darling?"

There had been a pause, and then she'd murmured, "At a hotel."

"Which one?"

"The one opposite that coffee shop you hate. You know, the-"

"I know, I'm on my way."

There was another silence, and then a whispered, "Okay."

What exactly had happened after he had gotten there was a bit of a blur. He remembered enveloping her in the tight hug he had longed to give her in her office. Then they'd hit the mini-bar, and had had a progressively drunken conversation about the woes of love and commitment. At some point, she had kissed him. He knew he had said something nice, but he didn't remember what exactly. And then she had kissed him, fiercely, and with intent. He had kissed back for a while, before pulling back. He wished he had been more in his right mind. He could barely remember how it had felt to kiss her for the first time. He only remembered a hazy knowledge that they shouldn't be kissing.

But he had seen it in her eyes. Not love, not longing, not even vulnerability. Just desperation. She needed the closeness. And in his fuzzy mind he thought that if she wanted closeness that badly, as her best friend, he would sure as hell give it to her. Regardless of what it did to his feelings.

The sex had been somewhat sloppy and desperate, but oddly comforting. He had been able to touch her, stroke her, kiss her, be close to her, and she had clung to him fiercely. He knew that in the moment, she had appreciated every gesture of affection. She had needed it.

He didn't remember anything after that, and assumed they must have fallen asleep pretty quickly.

He remembered feeling warm. So very warm.

x x x

He sighed, and shifted his head slightly. He managed to look down into her face, but she was still fast asleep. His heart was beating wildly with nerves. He didn't want to watch her panic, watch her fall apart because of _him_. In all honesty, he had no regrets. As a man, he completely understood the need for sex when life was being cruel. He also understood the need for his best friend when the world was falling apart. So what was wrong with combining the two?

He realized he was absently stroking her hair as he gazed at her. He wished he could protect her. From the world, from Alec, from this. Especially this. He supposed he could try by convincing her that this was not a big deal. That it didn't have to be. He knew he could be pretty darn persuasive when he wanted to be. That was what he would do, he decided. No apologizing, no embarrassment, no excuses. He would tell her that this had been the _right_ thing to do. Convince her until she believed him. Assuming she didn't blame him.

Time passed slowly. The clock on the bedside table told him it was 07:47 when he had woken up. It edged past 08:05 after what felt like hours of terror. Thank God it was Saturday. He could just let her sleep. He didn't need to rush her. He could put off that awful moment that was coming. The moment when he would see the panicked horror in her eyes.

He closed his eyes and drifted in and out of consciousness. Occasionally he would start awake, thinking she had woken, only to find her still fast asleep. At 08:52 it occurred to him that his head hurt like hell. By 08:56 he didn't give a shit. Why wasn't she waking up? His nerves were getting worse. He closed his eyes again and took a couple of deep breaths.

He felt her jerk in his arms during a dream about strolling on a very calm, deserted beach, and his heart nearly leapt out of his throat. His eyes snapped open in time to read 09:27, before he shifted them down to look at her face. She was gasping, and the dreaded look was there.

_Shit._

"Oh, God!" she choked, and tried to push her way out of his arms.

He didn't let her. He gripped her tightly against him as her body struggled to get away from him, from the bed, from what they had done. He kept her close. He had to stop her from distancing herself as of right now. They had to remain together right here. He couldn't allow a second for her to settle into regret. Right now, it was just panic, and he could dissipate that, steer her to the positive.

"Shh, it's okay, love," he whispered as she struggled.

"No, God no," she moaned, and he heard the horror. "Oh, _Jesus_, no, Cal!"

"Hey, hey, hey, stop, it's all right, darling," he said in as soothing a tone as possible, holding her firmly in his arms as she began to tremble and cry. "It's all right, calm down, it's okay."

"What'd we do?" she croaked through her tears, but at least she had stopped struggling against him. Her forehead was pressed to his chest, and he could feel her tears against his skin.

"Shh, it's all right," he murmured again, stroking her hair with his one hand, and placing a gentle kiss on her temple. "Please don't cry, it's all right."

"How is this all right? Oh, _God_, Cal!"

She began to try and pull away again, but he clasped her tightly, warmly, soothingly stroking the skin under his hands, and murmuring, "Don't, darling, it's not that bad. Gill, please. Just breathe, okay? Take a deep breath, love. You'll see, this isn't such a big deal, I promise. Shhh."

He knew it didn't much matter what he said, as long as the general theme was consistent and his tone of voice remained comforting. He waited as she finally sagged weakly against him, taking deep shaky breaths, the panicky gasping slowly dying away. He stroked her softly as she calmed down, but he could still feel the tears. He would have to move quickly.

"There, that's better. There, it's all right."

There were a few seconds of silence as her body calmed completely, and she breathed in and out against his skin, her tears no longer flowing, coming back from her panic. He soothingly caressed whatever part of her skin happened to be available to his hands as his arms remained tightly around her, and placed another consoling kiss to her hair.

Finally she looked up at him. Her face had settled into an expression of deep worry, but he was relieved not to see regret or anger in there. Not yet, anyway. He broke the tension by giving her a warm, reassuring smile.

"That's better, love."

"Cal, we shouldn't've-"

There was his cue.

"Yeah, we should've," he said firmly. "You needed it, and that's okay."

She was looking at him doubtfully, so he continued.

"Look, I realize it seems bad, but it isn't, all right? I understand it, Gill. It's not as though we've ruined anything, you know? We don't need to let this change anything. Just think of it as friendly comfort, right. I was just being there for you like you needed. Plus we were drunk."

"We had sex, Cal," she whispered as though she still couldn't believe it. In horror, he began to see the regret seeping in.

"So? It doesn't matter," he said, trying to keep his voice calm. "This was a special situation. A one-time thing. I promise, just think of it as something you needed, that I was happy to give you, and that means nothing else."

She was watching him, intrigued but doubtful.

"You really think that's possible?" she asked him quietly.

"Of course," he said at once. "We understand each other, Gill. I get it, all right, and I swear it was a good thing."

There was a long silence as she gazed at him, but he felt relief. He could see her tentative hope that his words might be true.

"You sure?"

"Yeah," he said gently, but more firmly now. "Absolutely. We don't need to look at it as anything other than what it was. Just comfort sex."

She gave a small twitch of an amused smile, and he almost laughed in relief. It was going to be okay. He could actually feel her relief as well, as the last of the tension drained from her body.

"And … and it's okay that it was with you?" she asked quietly.

"What're friends for?" he pointed out, and chanced a grin.

She smiled hesitantly back at him.

"No regrets over here," he finished. "And anyway, I'd rather it be me to comfort you than some strange horny wanker."

This time, her amusement was more obvious.

"I guess I agree there," she said. He could still hear some uncertainty in her voice, but it was fading away. The relief was incredible.

"It was fun," he said, with a wink.

And she laughed. A wonderful, heartwarming, glorious laugh that drew a laugh from him as well, and for a few moments, they both laughed in almost hysterical relief. Grinning, he leaned down and kissed her cheek, and then her forehead. She was still smiling.

"Think of it as a friends-with -benefits one-night-only special," he told her lightly, and she grinned. Her eyes were twinkling, but were also somewhat bashful. He felt a rush of protective warmth for her, and leaned in to place a soft kiss on her lips. She didn't pull away, and smiled at him instead.

They watched each other for a while, and he congratulated himself in his head. This could have ended very, very badly indeed. Now he was beaming into her eyes, eyes that were warm and grateful, and relaxed.

Then she leaned up to kiss him as well, and the kissing kept going. He didn't pull away, and merely followed her lead. The kissing evolved into desperate passion again, and he realized her hands were grasping his face, pulling him closer as she rolled onto her back. She was pulling him with her, and he followed. He didn't care. If she needed it again, he would give it to her with pleasure.

He had moved down to kissing her neck with hot wet kisses, determined to keep it about sex only. She needed him to, although he did allow his fingers to caress her skin gently. He moved down her chest and was closing his lips around one of her nipples when she suddenly pulled his head away. He looked up into her eyes, fearing the horror again. But all he saw was guilt. And a lot of it.

He began to wonder why, and then it hit him. Obviously.

"Don't feel guilty," he said quietly. "You're not cheating on him."

She stared for a few moments, and then whispered hesitantly, "It … feels like I am."

"But you're not, Gill."

She looked at him, worried.

"I – I know that … logically, I know …"

He realized that she didn't like that she shouldn't feel guilty. If this wasn't cheating, then it truly meant her marriage was over. He felt his face fall into gentle fondness, and he didn't bother to cover it up.

"If you want to stop, that's fine, love," he told her. "But if you want me to carry on, I'd be happy to. You're not hurting anybody. Don't feel bad."

She looked lost in indecision.

Then she asked very earnestly, "Do you think it's strange how much I want this right now? Because I don't even understand it."

He looked thoughtfully at her. By all standards this was probably wrong. They weren't drunk anymore. They were best friends and business partners. She was technically still married. _He_ happened to have real feelings for her. But what did it matter, he thought in frustration. She needed the comfort, he was more than willing to help, and they weren't hurting anyone.

"Maybe it is," he said quietly. "I don't know. But as long as we understand each other, who cares?"

She reached for him, and pulled him in for another kiss. It was uncertain, as though she was testing herself. Then she pulled back, looked him straight in the eye, and asked, "No regrets?"

He shook his head.

There was another long pause, and then she whispered, almost as though she couldn't believe it, "Carry on then, please."

He had to hide his grin at her "please", and placed a kiss on her lips. He then moved his mouth back to her nipple, and covered it with his lips. He drew as much of her into his mouth as he could, and moved his tongue all over the flesh in his mouth, probing, licking, rubbing. He began to suck at her, pressing the tip of his tongue directly down onto her nipple. She groaned, her fingers gripping his hair. He allowed one hand to travel down to between her legs, and gently brushed his fingers over her before stroking up and down.

She made a sudden noise, thrust her hips up into his hand, and grabbed his head away from her breast, pulling it up to kiss him fiercely. She kissed hard, her tongue pushing into his mouth, and he kissed back with matching lust. She was still pushing up against his hand, and he pushed back, his palm against her clit. She pushed him sideways, and came to lie on top of him. Both his hands came up to grip her head, as she leaned over him, kissing him with great determination and intent, her hips now pushing against his thigh. He felt his own hips jerk involuntarily, his erection pushing against her stomach as she lay on top of him. They were both breathing heavily through their noses, their tongues pushing and moving firmly all through each other's mouths, trying to taste every bit they could reach.

Suddenly he felt her hand wrap around his length, and he gave a grunt of surprise and delight. When she moved it up and down, he couldn't take it, and rolled her back onto her back, kissing with even more intensity than before, his tongue pushing as far into her mouth as it could possibly reach. She moaned loudly against him, her hand still gripping his length firmly. He moved his own hand down to wrap around hers, and then helped her guide him to her entrance. As soon as his tip made contact, they pulled their hands away as he thrust inside.

They both let out a small cry at the feeling. Her legs were around his back at once, and she was pushing up, grinding her pelvis up against him. He pulled his lips away from hers, and moved to the side of her head, allowing his tongue to push into her ear. She was whimpering slightly as they both rubbed their pelvises hard against each other. He knew he was pushing on her clit, and kept grinding until she gasped, and cried out. He felt her orgasm wash over her, and had to grit his teeth to hold himself back.

Finally she came down, and pulled his face around to kiss him deeply again. He instantly began to thrust into her, hard, fast, plunging as far into her as he could, every thrust sending electricity shooting up his length into his body. She was thrusting up as well, the sensation of their hips crashing together driving them both wild. He drove harder, faster, and she began to hiss his name with each thrust. He was grunting in time with their movements as well, now completely lost in the moment, his movements out of his control. Her legs were tight around him, and suddenly she cried out again. The pressure of her walls closing around him promptly caused him to lose it, and he pumped wildly and jerkily into her as she orgasmed. Just as hers ended, his hit him, and he let out a loud groan, pressing his forehead down on her shoulder, gritting his teeth as the waves shot through him and into her.

He couldn't move for a few seconds, and consequently couldn't help collapsing on top of her. Her hands were moving over his back gently, and her legs were still wrapped around his waist. As soon as he felt he could, he started to move off her, but she gripped him tightly, and croaked, "Not yet ... Stay in me, please."

So he hesitated, and then shifted slightly so that he could move onto his side, bringing her with him and never moving out of her. He held her against him, and they lay like that for several minutes, both breathing heavily.

Once they had calmed, she finally loosened her legs from around his waist, and he gently slipped out of her. They pulled apart slightly so that they could look into each other's faces, but kept their arms loosely around each other.

"So much for one time," she mumbled, looking sheepish.

He chuckled, and said, "Well, same situation, so I reckon it still counts."

"When does it not count anymore?"

"When I leave, I imagine."

She nodded in agreement, and then sighed. He saw the deep sadness creep into her eyes, and then she looked down to examine his chest hair, before mumbling, "It's been months since Alec and I-"

She stopped, and hesitated, clearly unsure how appropriate that was. Cal, on the other hand, thought it explained a hell of a lot. She had obviously needed to feel desired. The fact that had she needed that at all was ridiculous as far as he was concerned, and it was beyond him how any man could share a bed with her on a nightly basis and keep his hands to himself. He guessed that the drugs had become Alec's only interest.

He carefully lifted her chin up and kissed her gently, smiling kindly at her.

She returned it, the sheepish expression not leaving her face.

So he kissed her cheek as well, and said, "I enjoyed helping you out, love."

She let out an involuntary giggle that was probably due more to nerves than anything else.

He gave a sigh, and glanced at the time. 10:22.

"You want some coffee?" he suggested. "I can call room service."

"Yeah, that'd be great," she agreed quietly. He nodded, and carefully disentangled himself from her body before rolling out of bed. The room was open plan, with a wall dividing it halfway, splitting off a more private bed area. The phone was around the other side in the living area, so he got up and walked over to it. He found his clothes strewn over the couch. Picking up the phone, he dialed reception and ordered two coffees, continental breakfasts, and a newspaper.

He then pulled on his underwear, jeans and under shirt, before sauntering back to Gillian. She was sitting up in bed now, propped up by several pillows, and the covers pulled up just far enough to cover her breasts. Her arms were loosely crossed over the sheet to keep it there. He could see that she had brought her knees up slightly in an almost protective stance.

"I ordered the continental breakfast as well," he told her.

"Great, I am pretty hungry," she said, with a grateful smile.

He went to perch on the side of the bed beside her, and absently took her hand.

"I'm having lunch with Em and Zoe today, to cool off after the stress of yesterday. Meeting them at midday."

Gillian nodded slowly.

He bit his lip, and said awkwardly, "I could cancel."

"No, don't," she said quickly. "I'm fine. We're carrying on with our lives and stuff. That's the deal, right?"

He nodded, watching her.

Then he said very firmly, "I wouldn't even think about it if it weren't for Emily, you know."

She laughed, and then said, "Thanks."

Puzzled, he asked, "Why'd you laugh?"

"No reason," she said, and he didn't believe her for a second. He raised his eyebrows at her, and she relented, saying, "You don't need to try and make me feel like you'd pick me over Zoe, you know. It doesn't matter."

Her smile was warm and affectionate. He, on the other hand, scowled.

"Well, I would," he said flatly.

She was looking at him thoughtfully, and then asked, "You don't feel as though ... As though you betrayed her?"

His frown became more pronounced.

"No. She and I aren't together."

"But you _are_ sleeping together?"

"Well, yeah, every now and then, but ..."

He paused and looked at her face. He suddenly realized that this was about Alec again. He held back a sigh. This sort of thing was beyond him. But he tried anyway.

"I am over her, you know. The sex thing is just for fun. It's what we do."

"But ... You're still in love with her?"

"No."

She looked at him as though she didn't believe him.

He tried again to explain.

"I still care about her, you know. I mean, of course I do. But I'm not really in love with her anymore." He hesitated, and then said with feeling, "Don't ... Don't look at me and think it's impossible to move on. We have moved on, all right?"

"You have a very strange attitude towards sex," she observed. "I would never sleep with Alec again." She paused, frowning, and then amended, "I mean, I won't. I won't ever sleep with him again."

"Well, you shouldn't," he told her firmly, but realized she wasn't listening. He supposed she was suddenly comprehending what that meant.

He waited for her attention to come back to him, and when it did, he smiled and said, "You'll move on."

She murmured, "Maybe I'll believe you once the shock wears off."

"Have dinner with me tonight," he said suddenly. He didn't want to abandon her.

She looked slightly surprised, and then smirked and said, "Wow, you're really cramming in your women today."

"Oi," he grunted.

He knew she was just teasing him, but he still took some offense to it. She had no idea how many times over he would choose her over Zoe. After this, he suddenly felt little to no desire to sleep with Zoe ever again. It occurred to him that that was a very dangerous thought, because_ this _thing with Gillian was never going to happen again.

This depressing thought was interrupted by a knock on the door. He got up at once, and retrieved the tray with their coffees and breakfast. He brought it over to the bed, and placed it on the covers beside her. He sat facing her, his one leg folded on the bed and the other on the floor, the tray between them.

She smiled at him, and reached for the coffee, taking a sip and closing her eyes in relief. He grinned, and then picked up the paper, scanning the front page. She asked for the crossword section.

They sat in a comfortable silence, him reading the paper with his hand resting on her knee, her frowning thoughtfully over the crossword. They picked vaguely at their breakfasts, and sipped coffee.

Finally at 11:25, he gave a sigh, and said, "I should go. I still need to go home and change, so if I leave now, I might still make it before half twelve. Half an hour late is the limit."

She half laughed, looking up from her crossword, and said, "You should've left earlier then."

"Nah, wanted my coffee."

Well, that was half true.

"Anyway, you up for dinner then?"

She looked slightly undecided, and he added, "Special's over. Dinner only, I promise."

"Okay," she said. Her eyes were full of affection and trust, and a wave of relief.

"Good."

He got to his feet, walked quickly through to the living area, and returned holding his shirt, shoes and socks. He donned them all while sitting on the edge of the bed beside her, not wanting to be away from her any more than he had to.

He hated that he had to leave.

He hated how much he wanted to stay.

Finally he finished, and turned to look at her. She looked back into his eyes, and said with deep sincerity, "Thank you, Cal."

He smiled faintly, and murmured, "No need to thank me, love. It was my pleasure."

There was another pause, and then, unable to stop himself, he leaned forward and gave her a soft, tender kiss. He savoured it, because he knew it was the last one.

Then he stood up, gave her cheek a quick stroke with his finger, and said, "I'll come by at seven to pick you up."

"All right," she smiled. "See you later."

He nodded, sighed, and said, "Goodbye, darling."

He was at the door, shrugging into his jacket, when he heard her call out, "Cal?"

He backed up so that he could see her again.

"No regrets, right?"

"No regrets."

He watched her face relax completely. He gave a last grin, and raised his hand in a lighthearted wave, before departing, closing the door softly behind him.

He sighed, and for a moment, leaned against the door with his eyes closed. He should be content. He knew he had helped her. He knew she would be all right. He knew _they_ would be all right. And that was more than he could have hoped for when he had woken up.

"No regrets," he told himself firmly, and turned and left the hotel.

**FIN**

**A/N: **Thanks for reading – let me know what you think :-)


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